


Sorting the 616

by OccasionalAvenger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7130840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalAvenger/pseuds/OccasionalAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Harry Potter-style Sorting of too many Marvel characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorting the 616

It was the most crowded Sorting anyone could remember—and many of those in attendance could remember back quite some time. Exactly 245 eleven year-olds were shivering against the back wall of the Great Hall. All eyes were fixed on them.

Those eyes shifted, though, as a tall, bald wizard in a silver floating wheelchair glided to the front of the room. “Hello, my young witches and wizards,” he began, in a deep, kindly voice. “My name is Professor Xavier. You can’t begin to overestimate the joy it brings me to see your fresh faces here before me. It is important that we wizards stick together—we are an often misunderstood bunch, but you know what they say about phoenixes of a feather…” Polite chuckles sounded throughout the Hall.

“I have assembled the most capable staff in the Wizarding world to forward your education—”

“WHY'S OSBORN BACK AGAIN?” shouted someone from the Gryffindor table.

“Hogwarts is a great school,” continued Xavier as though nothing had happened, “but it wouldn’t be so without its students and excellent teachers. I look forward to a great year with you all. That said—Professor Radd? It’s time for the Sorting.”

Professor Radd, whose skin was pure, metallic silver (a result of a poor bet with a cauldron maker when he was a young man), stepped forward, holding the Sorting Hat. The battered old Hat opened its mouth at the brim and began to sing its annual song. This year, it was about the heroic qualities of each House—the loyalty of Slytherin, the unflinching kindness of Hufflepuff, the nobility of Gryffindor, the idealism of Ravenclaw. It was a change from the Hat’s usual song of Hogwarts’ history and the glory of the Houses, but when the Hat snapped its brim shut, the crowd of students and teachers broke into cheers.

Without preamble, Radd stepped behind a small stool at the front of the Hall and said, “Anna Marie.” 

The girl stepped forward and sat on the stool, allowing Professor Radd to place the Hat on her head, a white streak in her hair stark against the dark fabric. The room was silent for a moment; even the portraits on the wall held their breaths with anticipation. Then the Hat shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!” 

The room broke into cheers and Anna Marie smiled. She handed the Hat to Professor Radd and slipped off the stool. The Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped her on the back as she sat down. 

“I’m Bobby Drake,” said a kind-faced boy holding out his hand to Anna Marie. “I’m one of the prefects here.”

“Barton, Clinton,” called Professor Radd, before she could answer. There was a pause. “Clinton Barton?” 

“CLINT!” shouted a boy at the Gryffindor table. The first year at which he was shouting looked around wildly, eyes widening in surprise when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him. After a moment he trotted up to the stool—half tripping as he did so—and put the Sorting Hat on his head. 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Clint beamed and ran over to join his brother at the Gryffindor table.

“Sorry, Barn!” he shouted over the whooping from his new peers. “I couldn’t hear.”

A scrawny, curly-headed boy (“Banner, Bruce.”) was Sorted next, almost instantly put into Ravenclaw. A tall boy with icy blue eyes shook his hand seriously as he sat down. “Stephen Strange. Pleased to meet you.”

And so the Sorting went on. Cage, Luke and Danvers, Carol were both Sorted into Gryffindor and greeted by the gruff prefect, Logan Howlett. Morales, Miles and Khan, Kamala went to Hufflepuff, and Murdock, Matthew was quickly put into Slytherin, where he was introduced to the new Head of House, Professor von Doom. Peter Parker followed Miles Morales into Hufflepuff House, along with Henry Pym. 

The students were growing restless. Professor Radd was only on the R’s, and showed no sign of speeding up the pace—he was known for being endlessly patient, even if his students weren’t so. There was a mere smattering of applause as Rand, Daniel grinningly joined the Hufflepuff table. 

Reed Richards, a boy so tall and thin he appeared to have been stretched, had barely put the Hat on his head when it shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”

Ravenclaw, which hadn’t had as many new students as usual, erupted into cheers with more enthusiasm than most of the bored wizards felt was necessary.

“Rogers, Steven,” read professor Radd.

A small blond boy walked slowly up to the stool, limping a bit. As he sat down, he glanced over at the Slytherin table, where his friend Bucky Barnes, a second-year, gave him an encouraging nod. Steve put the Hat on his head and waited. 

“Quite a bit of courage, I see,” the Hat muttered in Steve’s ear. “And fire too—you’re a stubborn one. A good heart, though. Maybe a great one. No Slytherin for you, though you needn’t worry about your friend. Loyalty, that’s one’s got.” 

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Steve smiled—he had been hoping for Gryffindor, despite knowing he would be separated from Bucky. The Hat’s words about his friend reassured him; Houses didn’t determine friendships. He moved to take it off, but was stopped by another whisper in his ear. 

“Visit the Potions dungeon at the nearest opportunity. Professor Erskine is a brilliant man.”

Steve waited a moment, but the Hat didn’t speak again. Puzzled, he placed it on the stool and went to the Gryffindor table, squeezing in between Clint Barton and Carol Danvers.

Romanova, Natalia was called next, and there was an uneasy muttering in the crowd as she took her place on the stool. It was rumored that she had been a spy for the Death Eaters during the War. Afterwards, she had claimed to be under the Imperius curse by a well-known Death Eater named Chelintsov. No one wanted to send a seven year-old girl to Azkaban, and Chelintsov was notorious for using the Imperius curse, so Natalia was set free and raised by a program in the Ministry of Magic. She was young, but still untrusted by many.

To no one’s surprise, she was Sorted into Slytherin. Bucky Barnes leaned across the table to talk to her. 

“Don’t worry about ‘em,” he said waving his hand towards the Gryffindors, several of whom were booing. “They can boo us as we win the House Cup this year.”

There was only one hat-stall: Stark, Anthony. The Sorting Hat deliberated for nearly ten minutes while the sea of students—and many teachers—shifted restlessly. 

“Is no one else worried that they might starve to death?” groaned Peter Parker. “I haven’t eaten since the Hogwarts Express, like, three hours ago.”

“GRYFFINDOR!” roared the Hat, eliciting cheers from all around the Hall. Tony Stark, with a vaguely disappointed glance towards the Slytherin table, joined the Gryffindors, holding up his hands and bowing in response to their whoops; he was the son of well-known Ministry official, Howard Stark.

 

The rest of the Sorting went quickly, much to the relief of everyone present. Headmaster Xavier congratulated the first-years on their placement, and declared the beginning of the feast.

“The first feast never fails to be my favorite,” he said to Professor McCoy, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. They watched peacefully as Wade Wilson of Hufflepuff stole hash browns off Sam Wilson’s plate. Billy Kaplan of Gryffindor was staring with his mouth open at Teddy Altman of Hufflepuff. Danny Rand and Luke Cage had turned away from their respective tables and were talking to each other across the aisle. 

Yes, thought Xavier. All was well at Hogwarts. 

And then the Skrulls burst through the ceiling…

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I thought about this for days. Are there any that you guys think are dead wrong? Let me know! (I lost sleep over Tony Stark)


End file.
